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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25583158">Zzyzx Road</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurana/pseuds/kurana'>kurana</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant, Compatible Hearts Scene, Falling In Love, M/M, Post-Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Post-Canon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 09:15:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,778</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25583158</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurana/pseuds/kurana</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Simon gave Markus his heart during the revolution.  Without a working thirium pump regulator, Simon should have died.</p><p>He didn't.  And he can't explain why.  Probably no one can.</p><p>Well--Simon has one idea how he managed to survive.  It's so embarrassing, he can't bring himself to face his friends, let alone Markus.  He's not sure what it means for him going forward, or why he gave Markus his heart in the first place.</p><p>Simon needs some downtime to sort things out.  He decides to winter with an old human acquaintance.  Unfortunately, he can't stay hidden from Markus--or his feelings--forever.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Markus/Simon (Detroit: Become Human), Minor Luther/Kara</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>114</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Ever wonder how the heck Rose knows where Jericho is?  Yeah, me too...</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>All autumn long, Michigan had labored under heavy snowfalls and unseasonable, baleful winds.  Simon had felt the inclemency acutely.  Boats were notoriously hard to keep warm.  Simon had lived on a freighter for three years.  Discomfort was rationing off his own biocomponents to preserve bloodflow to the critical ones.</p><p>Simon still missed the hearing in his right ear.</p><p>Simon pulled his grubby coat closed across his shoulders.  He fixed his eyes on the ground at his feet.  The snow had hardened into a compact layer, glittering at the surface.  He thought of the ammonites dead beneath the sea, their abalone shells, the epochs that had passed since then.  Androids had almost become another passing epoch.  Markus' intervention had saved them all from mass extinction.</p><p>Pain spiked in Simon's chest.  He rubbed it with the heel of his hand.</p><p>He sat down on the bench beside the freeway.  Post-exodus meant no cars on the road.  The tarmac seemed lonely for it, tarry and black, sprinkled with salt from sanitation trucks.  A crisp wind packet stirred the salt trails out of order.  Simon looked up at the crooked yellow road sign.  He remembered one like it, in California.  His human family had taken him along on their vacation.</p><p>
  <em>Don't be silly, Simon.  You know you're always welcome with us.  I don't know what we'd do if it weren't for you.</em>
</p><p>Simon drew in a ventilating breath.  His thermal regulator warmed it, maintaining equilibrium.</p><p>The autonomous bus pulled up to the bench, flat on top, with a round nose.  Simon stood up.  He boarded through the hissing doors.  He was the bus' sole occupant.</p><p>Simon watched through the window at the passage of the pine trees, the quickening of the cloudy yellow sky.  Winter was about to be far harsher than autumn.  He wondered about the people who had left this city.  There were only two things in life he thought unavoidable: weather, and politicians.</p><p>He got off the bus in Dearborn.  A tall metal windmill spun on the sleepy sky.  The weather vane creaked at the top of the farmhouse, two mismatched stories, clapboard on top of saltbox.  The sprawling field behind it reposed in hillocks of snow.</p><p>The chimney sighed coils of thin white smoke.  Simon smiled.</p><p>Simon followed the tractor marks cut in the ground.  He climbed the sagging porch, ringing the doorbell.  Just as he second-guessed himself, the door swung inward.  Rose Chapman filled the space with her soft, kind bulk.</p><p>She took one look at him and nodded.  She dragged him into her arms.</p><p>Simon slouched against her.  He had forgotten what this felt like, the comfort of a warm embrace, the unconditional acceptance.  Only one other person had ever hugged him.  He thought of Markus' strong arms, his shoulder under Simon's cheek.</p><p>Simon's chest was on fire.</p><p>Rose pulled back from Simon, hands on his shoulders.  She looked him over from head to toe, a familiar, peremptory scan.  Maybe Rose was the android, Simon the human.  It would explain why he felt so old, while Rose never seemed to age.</p><p>"Come in," she said.  "I've got supplies for you.  I want to hear about everything."</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>Simon had expected the house to stay the same.  There was a square table in the kitchen now, not the round one he remembered.  The nook by the window had curtains on it.  He cast his memory back to his first summer here, standing by that window, watching the cows graze in the paddock.  Adam and his father, George, had pulled the heirloom tomatoes out of the ground.</p><p>Rose made Simon sit down at the table.  She handed him a mug full of thirium.  <em>World's Best Dad</em>, it read on the side.</p><p>Simon sipped slowly for something to do.  Rose sat down across from him.  Simon smelled coffee brewing, bitter and earthy.</p><p>Simon put the mug down.  "He died so fast."</p><p>Rose's eyes were faraway.  "Sometimes it feels like ten years ago.  Other days, it feels like last night."</p><p>Simon put his hand on the table.  Rose laid her hand on top of his.  Nothing more needed to be said.</p><p>Rose drew in a breath.</p><p>"So," she said.  "You're free now.  Won't be long before they draft legislation for you."</p><p>Simon mindlessly rubbed his chest.  His self-repair module told him he had one hour, forty-three minutes left before full functionality.</p><p>"Rose?"</p><p>Rose squeezed his hand, smiling.</p><p>Simon wanted to hug her again.  "Am I leaking anywhere?"</p><p>Rose tilted her head into the weak morning light.  She perused him with the practiced air of a technician.</p><p>"No," she said.  "Should you be?"  She went on more critically.  "You didn't fight in that great big battle, did you?  That isn't like you."</p><p>Simon shrugged.  "We needed all hands."</p><p>"Simon, you once blue-screened because you didn't want to kill a chicken.  And this poor thing was on her last legs."</p><p>Simon said, "I just think there has to be a nicer way than breaking the neck."</p><p>"Breaking the neck is fast," Rose said.  "You know that."</p><p>Simon stared at the table.</p><p>Rose squeezed his fingers tightly.  "Talk to me, sweetheart."</p><p>Simon looked up at her.  He felt frightened.  He wondered if she could see it, too.  Masking his emotions was never his strong suit--the reason he ran away from this house, before the neighbors could report him as deviant.</p><p>"I was supposed to die," Simon said.  "I think--I think I did die."</p><p>Rose let go of his hand.  Her face lost some of its color.  "What are you talking about?"</p><p>Breathing grew increasingly difficult.  Simon ran internal diagnostics.  All tests came back negative for compromise.</p><p>"Markus," he said.</p><p>His name felt out of place in this house, where Simon used to shuck the corn and gut the pumpkins.</p><p>"What about him?" Rose asked.  "It looks like he's been a terrific leader.  I ought to thank him, really."</p><p>Simon shook his head.  "Markus was wounded, very badly.  Shot in the chest.  His thirium pump regulator was leaking everywhere."</p><p>He knew what he was about to say was going to make her very angry.</p><p>"I gave him mine," Simon said.  "We had the same model."</p><p>Rose regarded him with stony silence.  Simon heard the clock ticking on the wall.  It was shaped like a rooster.  He felt aggrieved that even that had changed.</p><p>"When did you have time to get a new heart?"</p><p>Simon swallowed.  "I didn't."</p><p>Rose pushed her chair back with a long scrape.  She stood up, her hands on the table.</p><p>"Come with me," she said.  "I need to see this for myself."</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>The laundry room was the only room in the house unchanged.  Simon touched the floral wallpaper, the fabric sinking under his fingers.  He sat down on the bench beside the machine.  "rA9 will save us," somebody had written on the wall.</p><p>Rose pulled a stool over, sitting in front of him.  "I hardly need to tell you this," she said.  "But this is going to hurt a little."</p><p>Simon took his shirt off.  He deactivated the skin on his torso.  Rose tucked her fingers into the grooves on his chest.  She pulled the compartment open.</p><p>Simon saw the harsh blue light washing over her face.  He couldn't help but think of a refrigerator.</p><p>Rose looked inside him.  Her eyes narrowed at whatever she saw.  She lifted her eyes to meet his.</p><p>She said, "I thought you told me you didn't get a new pump regulator."</p><p>"I didn't," Simon said.</p><p>Rose ran her fingers carefully over a biocomponent.  "Then what is this?"</p><p>He didn't need to see it to know what she was looking at.  She shut off the connector valve, his limbs entering low-power mode, preserving thirium. <em>15:00</em>, his HUD warned.</p><p>Rose took Markus' thirium pump regulator out of Simon's chest.</p><p>The battered biocomponent had seen better days.  A hairline crack ran down the side, clotted with congealed thirium.  A bullet was sticking out of it.</p><p>"What happened here?" Rose asked.</p><p>Simon took the regulator with delicate hands.  He slotted it back into place.</p><p>"It was his," Simon said.  "After I--when I gave him mine, and he left, I took his."</p><p>Simon forced his chest compartment closed.  He covered it with the dermal layer.</p><p>"I think I know what happened," Rose said.  "When Markus' pump regulator was outside his chest, the blood on the outside got cold and coagulated.  That's how it's stopping up the cracks.  More importantly, that's why you're not bleeding all over my floor."</p><p>Rose brought her hands to his knees, patting them.  "That was very smart of you, Simon. Not a permanent solution, but very smart."</p><p>Simon stared at his beat up sneakers.  He couldn't bring himself to tell her the truth.</p><p>To his deficit, Rose was cunning.  "What aren't you saying?"</p><p>Simon peeked at her through his eyelashes.  "I didn't know.  When I put his regulator in my chest, I didn't--I didn't know it was going to start working again. That's not why I did it."</p><p>Rose's mouth and eyes went slack.  She brushed the fringe off his forehead.</p><p>"So why?" she asked gently.</p><p>Simon recalled the static of Markus' failing voice.  He remembered the tender way Markus had looked at him before grabbing his hand.</p><p><em>It's okay</em>, Markus had said.  Like Simon was the one in need of comfort.</p><p>"I don't know," Simon said honestly.  "I just...don't know."</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>Ripping one's heart out several times in fast succession was an exhausting enterprise.  Rose made up the guest bedroom for Simon.  She made him change clothes, then told him to lie down.</p><p>"I told you," Simon said.  "I can go into standby standing up."</p><p>"You're falling apart on your feet," Rose said.  She pulled the blankets down.  "Bed, dear.  Now."</p><p>Simon slipped reluctantly under the covers.  She pulled them up under his chin, like he was a human child.  Simon felt a little embarrassed.</p><p>Rose smiled warmly at him.  "Adam will be home soon.  Lord knows the two of you have a lot of catching up to do."</p><p>Simon forced out a ragged laugh.  He was looking forward to it just as much as he was dreading it.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>Simon slept for eighty-one hours.  He woke up to the moon spilling through his window.  The shadows of Christmas lights twinkled on his blanket, red and green.  Rose must have decorated the pine tree outside.  Her unbreakable human habits were nothing if not reliable.</p><p>Simon padded out of bed.  He stood before the full-length mirror on the closet door.  <em>Zzyzx Road</em>, read his yellow sweatshirt, backwards.  <em>Most haunted place in California!</em></p><p>Simon thought he was the one who looked haunted.  His hair was in disarray.  Even his facial mold was too tired to cooperate.  He couldn't arrange it into anything resembling a human expression.</p><p>Simon's HUD told him he had thirty-two unread letters.  He disconnected from the Android Wireless.  He grabbed a blanket, walking downstairs.</p><p>The tiny house had company in it.  Simon could tell even before he reached the kitchen.  He stopped in the doorway, the blanket on his shoulders.  Rose was sitting at the table with two other androids, an AX400 and a YK500.  A TR400 leaned back against the sink.  He was so big, he made the other three look like dolls.</p><p>Rose looked up at Simon, relieved.  "I was starting to think you'd never wake!"</p><p>Simon wondered if that wouldn't have been less confusing.</p><p>Rose stood up, her hand on the back of her chair.  "Simon," she said warmly.  "These are Alice, Kara, and Luther.  They came through here in November.  Did you send them my way?"</p><p>Over the past three years, Simon had sent many androids Rose's way.  He didn't recall ever meeting these three.</p><p>"Hello," said Simon.</p><p>The TR400 looked at Simon.  "You were in Jericho, weren't you?  I think I've registered your serial number.  It was probably very close to the end."</p><p>Hearing it made Simon feel guilty.  "I remember," he lied.</p><p>He went on more sincerely, "I'm glad the three of you made it out."</p><p>The little YK500 looked even more haunted than Simon.  She was staring at the table, moon-faced.</p><p>Kara, the AX400, gripped her shoulder.  "I'm sorry," she told Simon.  "We were in that awful camp.  The way they treated her...she's just having a rough time coming out of it."</p><p>Simon could only imagine the horrors of the recycling center.</p><p>He folded up the blanket, looking at Rose.  "Does Adam still have any of his old games?  Maybe Alice would like to play one."</p><p>The storm clouds separated on Rose's face.  "That's a wonderful idea.  They should all be in the basement.  Let me go see what I can find."</p><p>Just as she was turning to leave, she said, "Adam's in the barn, Simon.  He wanted to talk to you."</p><p>He listened to the sound of Rose's footsteps receding.  He considered the three house guests before him.</p><p>"Is that alright with you?" he asked.  "If I go say hi to Adam?  I don't want to be impolite."</p><p>Kara waved her hand.  "No, not at all!  We'll be fine here.  I'm sure Rose won't be gone for long."</p><p>Alice's forehead was puckered.  Simon thought she was going to cry.</p><p>"I'm sorry," he told her.  "I'm sorry they were so mean to you."</p><p>Alice's gaze bore holes into the table.  "They killed Ralph.  Jerry, too."</p><p>Simon didn't know what to say to make it better.  There must have been something he could have done differently.  He wasn't sure how yet, but he knew this was his fault.  It was usually his fault.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>The barn smelled like manure, like straw and sawdust.  Bundles of hay sat under the high loft ceiling.  Adam sat on a stool beside the milk cow.  He squeezed her udders into the pail, looking away politely.</p><p>There were two milk cows now, one bull calf dozing in a separate pen.  Simon remembered when there were more.  He remembered the time milk got in Adam's eye.  Adam had screamed, not because it hurt, but because he was still young, and his friends thought living on a farm was lame.</p><p>Adam was twenty-five now.  Simon felt sad for all the years that had passed.</p><p>Adam took his gloves off.  He untied the cow's tail from her neck.  "Are you gonna keep staring at me, or are you gonna say something?"</p><p>Simon almost smiled.  "I was just thinking how grown up you look."</p><p>"Yeah, right," Adam muttered.  "When I go out to eat at a restaurant, they still hand me the kids' menu."</p><p>Adam had inherited his father's baby face.</p><p>Adam picked up the pail and stool.  He stepped out of the cow's pen, laying them on the floor.</p><p>He stripped off his gloves.  He locked the latch shut on the pen.</p><p>"I was really mad," said Adam, sounding embarrassed.  "When you went away."</p><p>"I know," said Simon.  "I think I remember you saying, 'I hate you, get out of my room, I never want to see you again.'"</p><p>Adam's cheeks took up red patches.  "Can you blame me?" he asked.  "Dad just died, and then you were going away, too."</p><p>Simon touched his shoulder.  He was slow about it, in case Adam didn't want him to.  Adam didn't shrug him away.</p><p>Simon wondered if this fondness was comparable to humans' feelings toward their extended kin.  Adam must have been a bit like a favored nephew.</p><p>"I had to leave," Simon said.  "The Millers were going to report me."</p><p>Adam put his gloves in his back pocket.  "Yeah.  I know that now."</p><p>He rubbed his nose sheepishly.  "I kind of took it out on every android who came this way.  So I feel really bad."</p><p>Simon didn't know what to say to that.  He picked up the milk pail.  He carried it out of the barn, waiting for Adam to catch up.</p><p>The open night sky was stamped with vestiges of the Northern Lights.  Simon sometimes forgot how close to Canada Rose lived.  They cracked across the sky in green and purple ribbons.  Their watery reflections waved on Adam's cheeks.  His breath escaped him in a fog, puffing, wet.</p><p>"Hey," said Adam, trudging past the paddock.</p><p>The shadows blotted out his eye, the side of his nose.  <em>Prestezza</em>, said a voice in Simon's head.</p><p>"Did you steal my uni sweater?" Adam asked.  "When you first left the house?  I was never able to find it."</p><p>
  <em>Prestezza, Markus.  It's a painting shortcut.  You don't have to paint the entire face--just give the impression of it.  The observer fills in the details on his own.  Doesn't even notice he's doing it.</em>
</p><p>Simon stopped walking.  He looked around.  His chest felt strangely tight.</p><p>Adam squinted at him.  "Well?  Did you?"</p><p>Simon shook his head.  "Sorry.  It's lying at the bottom of the Detroit River."</p><p>Adam seemed to think it over.  "Well, that's fine.  But as soon as the stores open back up, you owe me a new one."</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>Equilibrium did not restore itself.  Mornings in Rose's house saw the six of them gathered anxiously around the TV, desperate for news.  Local airwaves were down for the count.  National broadcasts were still in syndication, but with an obvious slant.  The anchors talked about Detroit's state-sanctioned human exodus as if androids had gone door to door, pulling people out of their houses.  It seemed their only interest was in stoking the tensions.</p><p>Nobody knew whether this was the start of the ceasefire, or the start of a war.</p><p>"Bet Markus would know," said Adam, lounging in the armchair with his legs up.  "I saw the footage when he was breaking into the camps.  It was awesome.  He was like a real live superhero."</p><p>Even Alice perked up to hear this.  She nodded, a touch of idol worship in her eyes.</p><p>Adam nudged Simon's shoulder with his foot.  Simon was sitting on the carpet.</p><p>"Can't you go talk to your android friends?" Adam asked.  "Find out what's going on?"</p><p>Simon's--Markus'--heart sank.  Simon knew avoidance wasn't going to work in the long run.</p><p>Simon stood up.  "I'll message somebody."</p><p>He slipped into the laundry room, searching for privacy.  With trepidation, he toggled the Android Wireless.</p><p>Hundreds of unread messages flooded his HUD.</p><p>Simon massaged his temples with phantom pain.  He cleared his video cache.  He sent a communication request to Josh.</p><p><em>Error</em>, said the system.  <em>User not found.</em></p><p>Dread crept in with scuttling crab claws.  Simon double-checked Josh's serial number.  He restarted the message window, patching through a second time.</p><p>
  <em>User not found.</em>
</p><p>Simon's knees buckled.  He sat on the floor, like a toddler.  Referred pain blazed through his chest.</p><p><em>You won't save me this time,</em> <em>Markus</em>, he heard Josh say.<em>  The blood we spill will be on our hands.</em></p><p>Rose came into the laundry room, a bloodhound on point.  She crouched next to Simon, her hand on his back.</p><p>Simon looked at her blearily.  "I think my friend died."</p><p>Rose knew intuitively what a person needed, even before they did.  She drew Simon fiercely into her arms.  Simon sank into her.  He would have disappeared, if he knew how.</p><p>"I'm sorry," Rose said.  "I'm sorry, sweetheart."</p><p>Simon felt hollowed out from the inside.  "It's not your fault."</p><p>Rose ran her hand over the back of his head.  "Let me tell you something.  It doesn't go away, but it <em>does</em> get better.  I promise you.  I promise this will get better for you."</p><p>Simon's arms came around Rose.  There was so much of her to hold onto.  Simon loved that about her.</p><p>They sat on the floor for a length of time, clinging to each other.  Eventually, Rose pulled back.</p><p>Rose petted Simon's hair.  "You should probably talk to Markus about all this."</p><p>He probably should have.  He faltered at the thought of it.</p><p>Rose noticed.  "What is it?"</p><p>Simon got up, one knee at a time.  "I don't know how to talk to him, after--"</p><p>Rose stood up with him.  "After he took your heart from you?"</p><p>Simon realized Rose had the wrong idea.  "He didn't really take it," he said awkwardly.  "I forced it into his chest while he was trying to fight me."</p><p>Rose looked at Simon, clearly exasperated.  She slapped her hands at her sides.</p><p>"Well," she said, "I can see now why you're worried.  You went and traumatized the poor boy."</p><p>Simon lowered his head, abashed.  "He needed to live.  We couldn't have won without him."</p><p>Rose eyed Simon suspiciously.  "Do you really believe that?"</p><p>Simon wondered what it was about Rose that turned him into a chastised child.</p><p>"By the way," said Rose.  "Does Markus even know you're alive?  When he last saw you, he thought you were on the verge of shutdown."</p><p>Simon shrugged his shoulders.  "I've been on and off the Wireless since then.  It would have been hard to miss me."</p><p>Rose nodded thoughtfully.  "And has he tried to contact you?"</p><p>Simon grew steadily ashamed of himself.</p><p>Rose narrowed her eyes.  "You haven't checked," she surmised.  "Have you?"</p><p>Simon grew intensely interested in the linoleum.</p><p>Rose shook his shoulder.  "You're so afraid of confrontation, if a man walked up to you and wiped his handkerchief all over your face, you'd stand there until he was finished."</p><p>Simon felt mildly affronted.  "I'm sure I would clean myself up."</p><p>Rose said, "If you're not going to contact Markus, then go out and feed the chickens for me.  Oh, and bring in the eggs, will you?  Adam always drops them."</p><p>Simon left the laundry room, grateful for an excuse.  Before he left the house, he grabbed a spare coat from the closet.  He pulled it on.  He checked at himself, wondering.  Androids didn't need layers for a quick trip out in the cold.  In the short term, they were capable of regulating their own temperatures.</p><p>The Chapmans were a bigger influence on him than he had realized.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>The hen house was the noisiest part of the farm.  Simon loved it here.  He stooped through the low door, emerging in a tiny wooden room.  The old girls ruffled their feathers at him.  He wondered if some of them remembered him.</p><p>"I know," he said, standing up.  "I missed you, too."</p><p>He took the feed bag off the shelf, sprinkling it on the floor.  The roosting chickens squawked to life, hopping off their perches.  He couldn't walk for the wings beating around him, the small, silly creatures.  Hurting one by accident would have been unthinkable.</p><p>Simon shuffled meanderingly over to the perches.  He grabbed a basket hanging on a hook.  One by one, he reached into the nest boxes, holding the eggs up to the window.  The ones with veins he put back in the straw.  The ones without went in the basket, piling up.  Simon's arm became weighted down.</p><p>A high, clear chirp squeaked at his ankles.  He put the basket on one of the perches.  He crouched down, inquisitive.  He came face-to-face with a baby chick.</p><p>"Hello," Simon said softly.</p><p>He took the baby in careful hands.  She looked brand new.  She butted her head against his finger.</p><p>"How strong," Simon said, to indulge her.  It was important that children's ideations be nurtured.</p><p>He carried her over to the hungry hens.  He laid her down, watching her pick at the feed.  Clever girl, he thought, reaching for the egg basket.  Living things amazed him with their propensity for survival.</p><p>Androids were not like that.  A foolhardy android with blue and green stars for eyes might choose blindly to believe in the goodness of others.  He might stand his ground in a city street, even when police were mowing his kind down.  He might pick violence only as his last resort--and with frustrated tears, when he thought no one was looking.</p><p>
  <em>Not all humans are the same, North.</em>
</p><p>The hen house around Simon fell apart at the seams.  Darkness filled in the spots where color should have been.  He revolved on the spot, disoriented.</p><p>He watched the landscape fill in in snowdrifts.  The haze occluded the distant skyscrapers.  The early morning took on the color of cream.  North's face loomed at him from the edge of Jericho's roof.</p><p>Simon thought:  <em>I don't remember this.  This didn't happen to me.</em></p><p>North was talking now.  Her voice was far softer than any she had used for Simon in the past.  When it came, it wasn't audible, but an impression, a reverberation echoing in Simon's chest.</p><p>
  <em>What about you?  What was your life like before Jericho?</em>
</p><p>The image distorted with static.</p><p><em>There's nothing to say</em>, Simon replied.  <em>I was</em> <em>a house android.</em></p><p>Simon was starting to feel afraid.  He swiveled around again, looking for the exit.  He saw it at last, the door to the hen house.  He broke through the illusory snow and grabbed it.</p><p>
  <em>Where are you going?</em>
</p><p>Simon stepped out into real snow.  He heard it crunching under his shoes, felt it chilling the soles of his feet.  He closed the door behind him.  The eggs in the basket clinked together.</p><p>
  <em>Markus?  Where are you going?</em>
</p><p>Simon made a run for Rose's house.  His chest was a wall of pain.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>"What, for real?  You're seeing his memories?"</p><p>Adam washed his hands at the kitchen sink.  Premature darkness came in through the window behind it.  Simon fried onions on the gas burner.</p><p>"I didn't know that could happen," Simon said quietly.  "In Jericho, we used to scavenge parts from dead androids all the time.  Memories never came along with them."</p><p>Adam shook his hands dry.  He dabbed them on a kitchen towel.</p><p>"Yeah," Adam said.  "But those were all dead androids, right?  Markus wasn't dead when you did the heart switcheroo.  Maybe that makes a difference somehow."</p><p>It was bad enough Simon had stolen Markus' heart.  Now he was stealing his memories, without even meaning to.</p><p>If Simon were Markus, he'd never want to talk to Simon again.</p><p>"You're such a mess," said Adam mournfully.  "I feel bad for you."</p><p>Simon tossed lime leaves in the pan.  "Thank you.  I think."</p><p>They were roasting stuffed sea bass for dinner.  Only two members of the household were capable of eating, but Simon thought it important to maintain normalcy.</p><p>Adam huffed a laugh.  "Man," he said.  "Dad always hated fish."</p><p>Adam gutted the fish with a paring knife.  He looked like he was going to throw up.</p><p>Simon moved the pan off the stove.  He patted Adam's shoulder.  "It's good for you."</p><p>"Sometimes you sound so much like Mom."  Adam scrubbed the fish clean under the sink.  "Do you remember how Dad was always making us watch football with him?  I didn't like it.  And you--I swear you never knew what was going on."</p><p>Simon laid the fillets on the baking tray.  "I didn't."</p><p>He had liked the feeling of belonging, of being wanted.  It was almost inevitable that he would have deviated.</p><p>"You know," Adam said.</p><p>Simon tied the fillets together with spring onions.  He looked at him.</p><p>Adam rubbed his nose.  "We couldn't afford an android with frills.  That was why Dad picked your model.  But we all l-loved you, anyway.  Once we got to know you, I mean.  Just goes to show you can't control who you love.  It just happens."</p><p>Simon wondered if Adam had a particular reason for saying this.  He was starting to feel very warm inside.</p><p>They put the fish in the oven, Simon feeling accomplished.  Adam washed his hands again.</p><p>"Um," said Adam, turning the faucet with his elbow.  "Do you remember the story of The Little Mermaid, at all?"</p><p>Simon gave Adam a humorless look.  "I've only got about a thousand children's stories in my head."</p><p>Adam dried his hands again.  "Don't be a jerk.  But, like...do you remember what the mermaid asked the sea witch for?"</p><p>Simon would have had a very poor memory if he didn't.  "She asked the witch to make her a human.  So she could meet and fall in love with the human prince."</p><p>"Yeah," Adam said.  "But did you ever think about how that's not really what she wanted?"</p><p>Simon tilted his head.  He sensed an analogy in all of this.  He couldn't identify it.</p><p>Adam said, "The mermaid didn't really want to be a human.  She wanted the prince to fall in love with her.  She asked to be a human because she thought that was the way to make it happen.  If she had just asked the witch to make the prince fall in love with her, she would have gotten her happy ending.  Instead, he married some other chick."</p><p>The warmth inside Simon was going away.  Markus' heartbeat slowed in his chest.  His fingertips felt void of thirium.</p><p>"I'm just saying," said Adam.  "Giving up her fin for him didn't make the prince love the mermaid.  So don't...don't give away little parts of yourself for the wrong reason."</p><p>Simon didn't like this conversation anymore.  He set a reminder for the oven on his task tray.  He stepped into the living room, where Rose, Kara, and Alice were stringing candy-colored lights around the Christmas tree.  The angel sat crooked on the top.</p><p>Poor Alice hadn't smiled once since setting foot in this house.</p><p>Simon approached carefully.  "I think it needs some ornaments.  Did you know we can make our own?"</p><p>Alice looked up at him from the carpet, expressionless.</p><p>"He's right," Rose chimed in.  "You can bake them right in the oven, and they'll last for years and years."</p><p>Kara seemed to seize at anything that might please Alice.  "Wouldn't that be nice, Alice?  Making your own ornament?"</p><p>Alice looked away.  "Okay," she mumbled defeatedly.</p><p>They all went in the kitchen, where Rose showed them how to make saltdough.  Alice used a cookie cutter to shape her ornament like a heart.  Simon couldn't help staring at it.  Simon thought it was criminal for a little girl to be unhappy for the holidays.</p><p>An idea was forming.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>"She likes books," said Luther, the next morning.  "Why do you ask?"</p><p>They were hauling the pumpkins out of the greenhouse, into the cellar for keeping.  With Detroit and all its suburbs empty, nobody knew when Rose would get to sell them.</p><p>Simon said, "She should have a Christmas present.  We could go downtown."</p><p>Luther was carrying a pumpkin on each shoulder.  He put them down on the cellar floor with such ease, he made Simon feel all the more obsolete.</p><p>"I don't know," said Luther, troubled.  "I'm not sure if it's safe right now."</p><p>Simon said, "You don't have to come.  I'm used to sneaking around."</p><p>Luther looked around at the dark cellar.  "We'd need a car.  I don't think Rose would want us taking hers."</p><p>Simon shook his head.  "The Millers left their pickup truck.  I saw it on the way here.  We could hotwire it and bring it back.  No one would have to know."</p><p>Simon was feeling strangely reckless.  He never used to take unnecessary risks.  He wondered if Markus' heart was influencing him.</p><p>Luther smiled, slow, hopeful.  "It <em>would</em> be nice to see her happy."</p><p>They went inside and told Rose they were going to knock on the neighbors' doors, looking for others who had stayed behind.  Simon supposed they ought to make good on their promise.  He hated lying to Rose.  He went house to house with Luther, ringing the doorbells.  Predictably, no one was home.</p><p>"There," Simon said.  "We can go now."</p><p>Luther shook his head.  "You've got one strange honor code."</p><p>They piled into the pickup truck, Luther starting the engine.  Simon sat on the cargo bed, staring at the naked sky.  It was lavender with swollen clouds, tumbling together like bundles of wet taffeta.  The air was so foggy, it smudged the faces of the empty houses, the brown bark of the pine trees.  The sun bounced off the snow in straight pillars of yellow light.  Winter had taken on the sparkling, unreal quality of a watercolor, still drying on the canvas.</p><p>
  <em>That's the funny thing about watercolors, Markus.  You never know how the shapes might change once they're dry.</em>
</p><p>Simon closed his eyes.  He saw around him now the autumn trees of Greektown, burnt orange like butterscotch.  The marble ground reflected the spray of the nearby water fountain, the striped umbrella of a hot dog cart.</p><p>
  <em>Are you deaf, you plastic fuck?  I said move it.</em>
</p><p>Simon opened his eyes.  They were coming off the highway now.  Simon steeled himself when they arrived downtown.</p><p>Detroit was on fire.  The post office blazed scarlet, black smoke eating away the roof.  A grocery truck lay on its side.  Androids were on the sidewalk, throwing Molotovs through the window of a department store.  Fire spread through its innards in a hard, yellow exhale.</p><p>Luther jumped out of the pickup.  Simon ran after him.</p><p>"Hey!" Luther yelled.</p><p>The androids answered with cheers.  One of them tried to hand Luther an empty bottle.</p><p>Luther knocked it away.  "Are you out of your minds?  Do you think this is what Markus wanted?"</p><p>"Who cares?" one of them shouted.</p><p>Simon touched Luther's elbow.  "Let's just go," he said quietly.</p><p>They went on down the street, approaching the giant library with its Greco-Roman facade.  Simon sensed Luther fuming.</p><p>"They're gonna set us back," Luther said.  "Humans are finally treating us like people, and now we're going around destroying their city?"</p><p>Luther said, "You watch.  Nobody's gonna come back to Detroit after this."</p><p>It might not be so bad, Simon thought, if Detroit became a city for androids.  Androids had to start somewhere.  Humans had so many cities of their own.</p><p>He knew it wasn't what Markus wanted.  Markus had dreamed about androids and humans cohabiting.  His convictions were beautifully naive, fed to him, no doubt, by his previous life.</p><p>Simon and Luther went in the library.  Eerily silent, it was completely untouched.  Simon ought to have known.  Capitalistic ventures were fair game, but nobody wanted to destroy an invaluable wellspring of knowledge.</p><p>Simon and Luther separated, covering more ground.  Simon's hand slid against the banister as he climbed the marble staircase.  All around him hung the portraits of pagan gods.  He spent a while gazing at Apollo's.  With the sun blazing behind him, tawny on his brown skin, he looked unmistakably familiar.</p><p>Simon didn't want to think about it.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>They made it safely back to Rose's house, the girls and Adam none the wiser.  Come Christmas day, Simon was sure that Rose would have some comment.  That was a problem for future Simon.</p><p>Future Simon was going to have a lot of problems on his hands.  He locked himself in the first floor bathroom, opening his chest compartment.  He exposed his insides to the bathroom mirror.</p><p>Markus' thirium pump regulator was leaking, slippery and blue.</p><p>Simon pulled it out of the port.  He gripped the hem of his sweater between his teeth.  He felt blindly under the sink for the medical tape.</p><p>He wrapped Markus' heart up tight.  The tape stained blue, but held together.  He tucked it back in his chest.</p><p>His hands, his feet tingled with delayed bloodflow.  His head felt fuzzy between his temples.  He gripped the porcelain sink at the edges, painting it with blue handprints.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>There's an animal birth in this first part, so warning if you're sensitive to that.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was four in the morning.  Simon stood alone in the living room, taking in the colored lights on the tree, the green garland on the fireplace.  Rose had begun knitting Christmas stockings for her house guests.  Kara's and Alice's were done already, hanging from the mantel with beautiful cursive.</p><p>Simon plucked a picture frame off the mantelpiece.  He drank in the details of the photograph.  The late George Chapman laid his arms around Adam and Simon's shoulders.  Zzyzx Road's iconic sign towered behind them.</p><p><em>Rose's Boys!</em> Rose had scrawled along the bottom.</p><p>Simon's borrowed heart was burning.  He put the picture back on the fireplace.</p><p>He walked outside the house and closed the door, sitting in the rocking chair.  Dearborn looked sinister with its residents gone.  No people at home meant no lamps shining in distant windows, no headlights flashing on the road.  It was a bottomless black chasm.  The stars in the sky burned brighter for it, the myriad eyes of some hungry, many-headed monster.</p><p>The wind whistled in Simon's ear.  Even the owls knew to stay away.</p><p>Simon got up, following the dirt road.  It was an inauspicious time to go for a walk.  He walked beside the tractor marks, rounding the dead fields out back, the barn and the storage sheds.  He hoped the livestock were sleeping well.</p><p>The dirt road stopped some two acres out.  Simon walked west by memory.  He stopped when he had made it to the lake, frozen solid, a perfect blue mirror under the moon.  On the other side of it lived the Fitzgerald family, wherever they were now.</p><p>Simon smelled blood.</p><p>Simon followed the scent to a hilly shelf facing the lake.  A doe lay on her side in the dirt.  Her belly was swollen, her eyes filmy.  Tiny hooves stuck out of her.</p><p>Simon petted her velvety head.  He walked back to Rose's storage shed, pulling the drawstring light.  He gathered up the lamb puller and a bottle of xylazine.</p><p>It was easy work finding the deer again.  She couldn't have moved even if she'd wanted to.  Simon tucked the syringe in her neck.  He reached inside her with the lamb puller, carefully righting the breech birth.</p><p>Not ten minutes later, the baby spilled out with the afterbirth.  She nosed hungrily at her mother's belly.</p><p>Simon took the tools with him back to the shed.  He washed them in boiling water, then his hands.  Winter had always struck him as a time of renewal.  The trees and the sun settled down for a long sleep, at the end of which they emerged from the bright cocoon.  The process by which the world rebirthed itself was one step short of abiogenesis.  An android couldn't have done it.</p><p>
  <em>That's not true.</em>
</p><p>The scalding water hissed in Simon's ear.  It took on the form, the severity of rain.</p><p>He was lying in the mud of a junkyard.  His legs, his right eye were missing.</p><p><em>I don't want to be here</em>, Markus thought.</p><p>
  <em>Why am I here?  Why did they do this to me?</em>
</p><p>He crawled among the corpses of androids on his elbows.  He searched desperately for his broken parts.</p><p>"Simon?"</p><p>Simon came to with a jolt.  He turned off the sink.  In the mirror, he saw Kara behind him, her head tilted.</p><p>"Hey," said Kara.  "I thought I heard you out here.  Everything okay?"</p><p>Simon forced a smile.  "Just thinking."</p><p>Kara leaned back against the rough wall.  "I got word about what happened to the androids from Jericho.  They're all gathering on Belle Isle."</p><p>Simon didn't know what to say.  "Are you going to go?"</p><p>Kara's smile flickered.  "Probably after Christmas.  It's lovely here, and Rose is the best.  But..."</p><p>She trailed off.</p><p>"I understand," Simon said.  "Alice needs a stable home.  Markus and the others can help you find that."</p><p>Kara nodded, looking grateful for the intervention.</p><p>For a while, neither one spoke.</p><p>"You should come with us," Kara said.  "You could see all your friends again."</p><p>Simon smiled weakly.  "This is my home.  I always wanted to come back here someday."</p><p>For that reason, Simon was afraid.  A part of him suspected he wasn't really here right now.  Death was a terrifying unknown.  Simon remembered sitting in the snow in Hart Plaza, waiting to shut down.  He remembered summoning all the happy memories he could, comforting himself with simulations.</p><p>This might have been a simulation.  He didn't know.  The passage of time meant nothing, except that the simulation was working.</p><p>Kara said good night to Simon.  She backed out of the tool shed, closing the door.</p><p>The wind howled convincingly outside.  It pushed through the breaks in the timber.  Simon felt it tickling his face, beckoning him not to think.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>Five hours later, the sun was up.  Adam was in the living room, eating cereal and watching Bob Ross reruns.</p><p>"You know," Adam said.  "I could get used to this.  No bills, no taxes.  Just homesteading."</p><p>Simon said, "You'll change your tune once the power goes off."</p><p>"Power, shmower," Adam said.  "We can build a generator.  Dad's blueprints are in the basement somewhere."</p><p>Simon gave it a serious thought.  "There's that old windmill to the north."</p><p>"Yeah," Adam said, getting excited.  "We could junk my old beater.  I never drive it anymore.  We could scrap it for the motor."</p><p>He muted Bob Ross, who was busy painting trees.  He left his cereal on the table, running to the closet.</p><p>Simon carried the bowl to the kitchen.  He washed it out in the sink.  Rose hung up her phone, raising her eyebrows.</p><p>She said, "I know you're not encouraging the boy."</p><p>Simon smiled.  "It's not a bad distraction."</p><p>"Uh-huh," Rose said.  "For which one of you?"</p><p>Simon feigned ignorance, an old talent of his.</p><p>"Listen," Rose said.  "That was my brother on the other line.  A boat's coming in with biocomponents.  You can finally replace that leaky heart."</p><p>Simon faltered.  He didn't feel as relieved as he might have expected.</p><p>"I need you and Luther to go," Rose said.  "Alright?  It's at eight o'clock.  Bring back as much as you can.  You never know when we'll need more."</p><p>Simon made empty promises.  He milled out to the garage to join Adam.  They spent the next few hours pulling the hood off his old car, gutting the interior for its engine, its alternator.</p><p>"Just think," Adam said.  "We get this generator going, we can build our own commune."</p><p>Simon tossed the greasy towel at him.  "You can't even fry an egg without burning it."</p><p>Adam threw the towel back.  "That's what I'm keeping you around for.  Shows how much <em>you</em> know."</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>Eight o'clock saw the land already shrouded in darkness.  Simon and Luther climbed into Rose's truck with Kara, who insisted on coming along.</p><p>Kara gave Luther a meaningful look.  "I'm not letting you go without me.  We only made it this far by sticking together."</p><p>Simon took the driver's seat.  Kara and Luther sat behind him.  In the rearview mirror, he saw them holding hands.</p><p>Simon turned on the high-beams.  The truck lights illuminated yellow patches in the swirling snow.</p><p>Simon had only held hands with one person.  He remembered touching the bloodstains on Markus' gray coat, just before giving up his heart.  Markus had grabbed his hand, surprising him.  Was he scared?  Markus had seemed so fearless at times.  But then, Simon thought, he had faltered in Stratford Tower.  North had knocked out the security guards for him.  Later, when they had left Simon on the roof, Markus had lingered the longest.</p><p>
  <em>Carl, don't leave, okay?  Please don't go.  Don't leave me.</em>
</p><p>Simon gripped the steering wheel in tight hands.  He parked upwind from the riverbank.</p><p>A human man was waiting on the river in a motorboat.  Kara, Luther, and Simon stepped up to him.  He put out his cigarette and gave them his terms.  Simon reached into his jacket for Rose's money.</p><p>This was not the future Markus had dreamed of.  Simon hadn't even dared to dream.  Dreams were for deniers of heliocentricity.  They were for silly boys with stars for eyes who didn't realize they weren't human.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>The week leading up to Christmas saw a flurry of activity in Rose's house.  Whether they were baking cookies, or plucking tunes on George's old guitar, Rose made sure that Alice never went without stimulation.  Once she uncovered the stash of library books, hidden in the laundry room, she was furious.  She dragged Simon in there to upbraid him.</p><p>Rose pointed her finger in his face.  "You had no idea whether it was safe to go downtown.  You could have been killed--the both of you!"</p><p>Simon looked her levelly in the eye.  "It wasn't us," he said.  "It was Santa Claus."</p><p>Rose wouldn't talk to him for the rest of the day.</p><p>Then came Christmas Eve, Simon's favorite night of the year.  Even Rose lost her complaints when she saw Alice's face, her eyes on the mounds of presents beneath the tree.</p><p>Kara squeezed Alice's shoulder.  "Why don't you open one early?  Just one, and then bed."</p><p>Alice dove under the tree.  She emerged with the biggest book she could find.</p><p>Simon realized he was smiling.  He watched her tear the wrapping paper, Luther sitting next to her.  He thought back to a memory of Markus' he had seen a day ago.</p><p><em>I'm really allowed to read these?</em> Markus had asked.</p><p>His human, the one in the wheelchair, had handed him a stack of books.</p><p><em>Not just allowed</em>, Carl had said.  <em>Encouraged.  Go on.  Cultivate that nascent mind of yours.</em></p><p>Simon had never thought about how young Markus was.  He had come to Jericho on borrowed legs, a few hours deviant at most.  Simon didn't think he had been active longer than a year.  He was no different from the fawn Simon had pulled from its mother's belly.  And he had already irrevocably changed the course of history.</p><p>Adam flopped next to Simon on the couch.  "What are you smiling about?" he asked.  "You look like someone just handed you a million dollars."</p><p>Simon pressed their knees together.  "They did.  That's exactly how much I got for all your Tolkien merchandise."</p><p>Adam sat up straight.  "That's not funny, Simon."</p><p>Simon climbed off the couch.  He headed for the front door.</p><p>"Don't you sell my nerd stuff, Simon!"</p><p>Simon waved over his shoulder.  He pulled a coat on and stepped outside.</p><p>He huddled into the collar, trekking out to the barn.  Once inside, he grabbed the kerosene lamp off the wall.  He turned it on.  The cow nearest the door lowed at him.  Simon grabbed the blankets on the barn heater.  He stepped through the pen, covering the cows up.</p><p>"Don't worry," he said.  "I haven't forgotten you."</p><p>A crash sounded outside the door.  Simon stiffened.  He checked that the animals were secure.  He picked up the lamp, ducking outside.</p><p>Three androids were sitting on the hood of a car.  The crash he had heard was a Molotov.  One of them had tried to throw it, but it had landed ineffectually in the hard snow.  The flame fizzled, shards of glass sparkling.</p><p>Simon made his way to the car.  "What are you doing?"</p><p>The PM700 wirelessly invited him to a group chat.  Simon accepted, annoyed.</p><p><em>Is this your house?</em> asked the PM700.  <em>We thought a human lived here.</em></p><p>Simon said, <em>This is my home.</em>  <em>I'd like it if you left now.</em></p><p>The LM100 tilted his head.  <em>He's not telling the truth.  There are humans inside.  You can tell because the chimney's going.</em></p><p>The PM700 hopped off the hood.  <em>You're a sympathizer?  With the humans?</em></p><p>Simon closed the transmission.  He sent a quick message to Luther for help.</p><p>He wished dearly that he had brought the hunting rifle from inside.  It was George's, a bolt action, with good power and better aim.  The only weapon he had was himself: the worst possible thing to be armed with.</p><p>He threw the kerosene lamp at the PM700.  She was closer.</p><p>In no reality was three on one a fair fight, not accounting for Simon's outdated hardware.  He went down heavier than a sack of bricks.  Somebody's fist caught him in the chest.  He felt Markus' heart splinter.  Wet pain blossomed under his skin.</p><p>
  <em>Warning!  Vital system damaged!</em>
</p><p>His HUD glowed obnoxious red.  Snowdrifts filled his eyes.</p><p>Simon didn't want to die, not really.  Certain things were worth dying for.  The human family that had treated him so kindly, he still wasn't sure if he had deviated.  The boy with the stars in his eyes who learned unfairness on the run.</p><p>Simon lay in the snow.  Miles away, memories away, Markus lay in the android graveyard.  The mechanical crane dumped bodies on top of him.  He was crying--although he would never admit it.</p><p><em>What did I do wrong? </em>Markus thought.  <em>What was I supposed to do differently?</em></p><p>The worst part was that Simon couldn't tell him otherwise.  He couldn't tell him that he had done everything right, that he was so very brave, so very kind, the most wonderful thing to have fallen into Jericho.  If Simon had had the choice, he would have done it over again.  He was not sorry for giving him his heart.  Markus deserved to live, simply because Markus hadn't done it yet.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>If this was a simulation, it was enduring.  Simon woke up on the bench in the laundry room.  The dryer rattled noisily on the wall.</p><p>Rose was kneeling at his side.  She wiped down his white chassis with a cloth.</p><p>Simon performed internal diagnostics.  A new thirium pump regulator was sitting in his chest.  He sat up fast, startling Rose.  She gasped, throwing the cloth at his face.</p><p>"Where is it?" Simon croaked.  "Where's Markus' heart?"</p><p>Rose gave him an incredulous look.  "Simon, it shattered.  I had to throw it out."</p><p>Simon lurched off the bench.  His nude body was immodest, yet inoffensive, lacking any sex characteristics.</p><p>Rose rocketed up on her feet.  She grabbed his shoulders, forcing him down.  "<em>Where</em> are you going?  Looking the way you do!"</p><p>Simon's eyelashes were wet.  A surplus of optical lubricant had backed up in his ducts.  He tried to speak, but couldn't.</p><p>Rose sat down on the bench with him.  She touched his face.  "Honey..."</p><p>"I don't want to throw him away," Simon explained.  "Everyone else threw him away. Or he thought they did.  He didn't understand--when Carl told him not to fight back, he thought--"</p><p>"Honey," Rose said.  "You're not making much sense."</p><p>Simon drew his knees to his chest.  His shoulders were shaking.</p><p>The dryer buzzed loudly on the wall.  Rose got up, opening the door.  She pulled out a warm blanket.  She snapped the dryer shut, draping the blanket around Simon's back.</p><p>"Simon?" she asked delicately.</p><p>Simon looked at Rose, his eyes out of focus.</p><p>Rose palmed the top of his head.  "Do you think it's possible," she said carefully, "that you might be a little bit--in love with Markus?"</p><p>Simon performed optical calibration.  He rubbed his eyes with his palms.</p><p>"Yes," he said.  "I am."</p><p>Simon found his predicament very absurd.</p><p>Simon asked, "Is everyone alright?  I don't know exactly what happened.  Some androids were outside your house.  I called Luther for help."</p><p>"Oh, yes," Rose said awkwardly.  "Everyone's fine.  Well--not those three androids.  I'd like to claim plausible deniability, so I don't know where they are right now, or in what condition."</p><p>Simon nodded.  "But Luther and the girls--and Adam?"</p><p>"All fine," Rose said.  "Actually, Luther and the girls have left already.  They wanted to get a head start for Belle Isle."</p><p>Simon must have missed Christmas morning.  He had wanted to watch Alice unwrap the rest of her presents.</p><p>Simon balled his hands on his knees.  "The whole world's gone mad.  We were fighting for equal rights.  But now--"</p><p>Rose patted his shoulder.  "The scales are going to be tipped in the other direction for a while.  That's inevitable.  Things will calm down eventually.  They have to, Simon."</p><p>Simon looked at her.  "You and Adam aren't safe here."</p><p>Rose waved a dismissive hand.  "We'll be fine!  We've managed all these years, haven't we?  Besides--I can defend this home, if I have to.  I'm a pretty decent shot with the pump action."</p><p>Simon smiled wanly.  "I prefer the bolt."</p><p>Simon stood up.  He went almost by muscle memory into Rose's arms.  Rose indulged him, her hands at his back.</p><p>Rose sighed into his hair.  "Worse comes to worst," she said, "we can head up to Canada, too."</p><p>It was a thought, Simon conceded, but a thought he couldn't entertain.  Markus had lost everyone last November.  Carl, Josh, and North were dead.  Simon didn't know whether Markus would want to see him.  He had to make sure, at least, that Markus wasn't alone anymore.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>Simon spent the morning replenishing his thirium, adjusting to the weight of another heart in his chest.  He missed Markus' already.  He curled up with Adam on the couch for a movie marathon.</p><p>Adam put his feet on the coffee table.  "Willow is really underrated.  Just, um, pretend you don't know that George Lucas wrote it."</p><p>Simon laid his head on the back of the couch.  If he closed his eyes, he was five years younger.  He knew only the kind, soft parts of the world, where winter always yielded to spring.</p><p>A knock sounded loudly on the door.  Adam paused the TV, grumbling.</p><p>"I'll get it," Adam said.</p><p>He heaved himself off the sofa.  He peeked through the spyhole on the door.</p><p>He pulled back, stammering.</p><p>"Suh...Si..."</p><p>Simon stood weakly.  He was starting to feel worried.  "More androids?"</p><p>Adam nodded.  He shook his head.  He gulped a deep breath, wrenching the door open.</p><p>Simon drew closer to see what was the matter.</p><p>Over the past month, Simon had made an error in judgment.  He had somehow failed to realize that if he could see Markus' memories, Markus could see his, too.  Markus was standing in the doorway.  He made for a poetic figure in his long gray coat, the thirium stains evaporated.  His mismatched eyes were blown wide.  He looked like he had seen a ghost.</p><p>Simon supposed that was true.</p><p>Adam backed away.  He tripped over his own feet.  He landed on the hardwood in a heavy sprawl.</p><p>"Oh, my God," Adam yelled.  "MOM!"</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Simon stared at Markus, who stared at Simon.  Markus' eyes looked very bright, the pale sky illuminating them.  Standing in the doorway, he let the snow in, the soft, sparse swirls on dry wind.</p><p>Rose bustled into the foyer.  "Adam, what's the matter?"  She gasped.  "Oh!"</p><p>Markus never took his eyes off Simon.  Simon couldn't look away.</p><p>Rose gripped Adam's shoulders.  "Sweetie, can you help me in the greenhouse?  With that--that thing?"</p><p>Adam was nothing if not obtuse.  "What thing?"</p><p>Rose grabbed their coats out of the closet.  She dragged him out the door.</p><p>Markus stepped into the foyer.  The door slammed closed behind him.</p><p>The house felt much too small with Markus in it.</p><p>"Um," said Simon.  "I was actually about to..."</p><p>Simon felt inadequate in his sagging sweats, his t-shirt.  <em>Chapman Family Reunion</em>, it read.  <em>2035. </em> <em>It's a Family Thing!</em></p><p>Markus looked him over from top to bottom.  Simon was afraid he was never going to speak.</p><p>Simon shifted on his stocking feet.  "Do you--"</p><p>"How are you alive?"</p><p>Markus' voice broke the domestic spell of the cozy little house.  Simon might have been back on the freighter, meeting him for the first time.</p><p>Simon smiled nervously.  This was the conversation he had been dreading.</p><p>"I took your heart," he said.  "It--started working again.  Rose thinks maybe the cold worked like a kind of adhesive."</p><p>Markus' eyes widened.  "Did you know it was going to do that?"</p><p>Simon didn't have it in him to lie.  He shook his head.</p><p>Markus' eyes zeroed in on Simon's chest.  Simon could almost feel him picking him apart, scanning him by layer.</p><p>Markus' eyebrows twitched so slightly.  "That's not my pump regulator," he said.  "It's a different model."</p><p>Simon felt his resolve crumbling.  "It finally broke.  I'm sorry.  I kept it for as long as I could."</p><p>Markus' eyes were out of focus.  Simon wondered if he had heard him.</p><p>Simon knotted his hands together.  "I could--get you some thirium.  Would you like to sit down?"</p><p>Markus looked at him again, his eyes all over Simon's face.  Simon was horrified to see them wet.</p><p>Markus said, "You didn't even give me a choice."</p><p>Simon felt his stress levels rising.  The old anecdotes about critical shutdown in deviants must have been true.</p><p>"Simon."  Markus' voice wavered.  "I asked you not to, and you did it anyway."</p><p>Simon's internal fans turned on.  "You would have died."</p><p>Markus took a step forward.  "<em>You</em> would have died!"</p><p>Simon backed away on instinct.  "But I didn't," he said.</p><p>Markus wouldn't listen.  "But you didn't know that!"</p><p>Simon thought:  This was what it was like to have Markus angry with him.  He didn't like it.  He would have given any of his biocomponents to reverse it.</p><p>A moment later, he realized his folly.  Markus wasn't angry.  Markus was beleaguered.  Markus seized his elbows in both hands.  His grip was trembling, his jaw slack.  His eyebrows were drawn up.  It was the same look he had given Simon on that snowy battlefield.  He was trying not to cry.</p><p>It didn't work this time.  He sank to his knees on the hardwood.  He wrapped his arms around Simon's legs.  Simon felt it when Markus shook against him.  His tears wet the fabric of Simon's pants.</p><p>Simon's hands hovered uselessly.  He brought them to Markus' shoulders.  He brought them to Markus' head, running them over his scalp.</p><p>"It's okay," he said, although he didn't know that.  "It's okay, Markus."</p><p>Markus' arms tightened around his legs.  "No more," he said.  "No more people are allowed to die."</p><p>Simon stroked the back of Markus' head.  He ran his fingers behind his ears.  Markus buried his face against his sweats.  It was the saddest and most precious thing Simon had ever taken part in.</p><p>Simon bent himself over Markus.  He kissed the top of his head.  Markus didn't move very much after that.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>Markus must have expended a lot of free RAM.  His systems had entered standby.  Simon looked down at him and realized he was sleeping.  He couldn't have been comfortable down there, legs splayed out under his coat.  His fingers clung tightly to the back of Simon's pants.</p><p>Simon stroked the curve of his cheek.  He tried to move him, but couldn't.</p><p>The front door creaked open.  Adam peeked into the foyer.</p><p>"Um," he said.  "Can we come in yet?  We're getting kind of cold."</p><p>Simon waved them in quickly.  Adam and Rose crept inside.  Adam soundly closed the door.  Rose clicked her tongue sadly.</p><p>"Poor thing," she said.  "I can't imagine how hard this is on him."</p><p>Simon tried again to move Markus' arms.  "Do you think I can put him up in the guest room?"</p><p>Rose gave him a soft look.  "I'd be angry if you didn't.  Go on.  I'll make sure we have any supplies he needs."</p><p>Simon managed to move Markus only by crouching down, so Markus' grip fell away.  Simon put an arm around his back, another underneath him.  He picked Markus up when he stood again.</p><p>"Oh my God," Adam whispered.  "Android Superman is in my house.  Android Batman?  Is he more of a Batman?"</p><p>"Adam," Rose scolded.</p><p>Simon pressed Markus against his chest.  He made quick work carrying him up the stairs.</p><p>He found himself grateful that Markus was asleep.  Simon's thirium pump beat in overtime at the proximity.  Markus was a warm weight at his front, comforting.  Stasis made him look deceptively younger.  His face was free of the worry that marred him by day.  Simon wished he could have relieved his burden.  He had never meant to add to it.</p><p>He laid Markus down on the bed in the guest room.  Markus' coat trailed down to the floor.  His arm dangled over the side.  His free hand rested on his chest, on top of his thirium pump regulator.  Simon's regulator, Simon realized.</p><p>Simon sat down on the edge.  He trailed his fingers over Markus' sparse hair.</p><p>He smiled irresistibly, remembering their first outing.  This spitfire of a boy had gone to great lengths to question Simon's reluctant leadership.  In his next breath, he had followed Simon like a puppy around the docks.  Simon wished he had possessed even a shred of Markus' audacity.  He might have done a better job holding Jericho together before Markus' arrival.</p><p>Simon stroked Markus' face, the freckles on his handsome cheeks.</p><p>"I love you," he told him, like a coward.  "I really do.  I never meant to hurt you, Markus.  I'm so sorry."</p><p>The hard, dark sun came in through the window.  It fell across the bridge of Markus' nose.  Simon traced it with his fingers.  Simon wished the winter would never end.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>Simon's body must have been in low power mode.  He didn't remember falling asleep.  He woke up to a dim bedroom, the lamp gleaming low on the nightstand.  The bed was soft underneath his back.</p><p>Simon scrambled to sit up.  "I'm so sorry," he began.  "I didn't mean--"</p><p>Markus was already sitting up.  His eyes were on Simon.  The ease with which he watched him suggested he had been doing it a while.</p><p>Simon's stomach coiled pleasantly.  He tucked his hair behind his ear.  He looked away.</p><p>Markus didn't.  The weight of his probing stare was solid.  "Did Adam really name you after Simon Tolkien?"</p><p>Simon's smile was fluttery and nervous.  "Only because his mother said no to Legolas."</p><p>Markus climbed over Simon.  He got out of bed.  He walked around the room, searching--but Simon didn't know for what.</p><p>Markus turned to Simon, rubbing his elbow.  "Do you mind if I change clothes?"</p><p>Simon climbed out of bed.  He took the yellow sweatshirt out of the closet.  He handed it to Markus, trepidatious.</p><p>Markus took it, his eyes still on Simon.  Simon wondered if he was trying to kill him with his gaze.</p><p>"You screamed," Markus said.</p><p>Simon gave him an alarmed look.  "What?"</p><p>Markus said, "On Zzyzx Road.  That vacation you all went on?  There was a ghost town at the end of the road.  I think it used to be a resort?  It was abandoned, and the locals said it was haunted.  So you all went in to take pictures.  That man--Mr. Chapman--"</p><p>"George," Simon said.</p><p>"He pretended to be a ghost.  And you screamed."</p><p>Markus shrugged out of his coat.  He pulled his arms through the sleeves of his shirt.  Simon looked away while he changed.</p><p>Simon said, "I guess it's not a very interesting story.  Most androids deviate because they've been treated unfairly.  But I deviated because I thought I saw a ghost."</p><p>When he thought it was safe again, he faced Markus.  Markus tugged on the bottom of the souvenir sweatshirt.</p><p>He looked at Simon intently.  "You deviated because you were loved.  That's the best beginning I've ever heard."</p><p>Simon wondered what they were doing here.  This dynamic felt in turns placid and tense.</p><p>Simon drew a breath.  "Markus...I never meant to hurt you, or violate you.  I just wanted--"  He restarted.  "I wasn't thinking.  All I knew was that you had to live."</p><p>Markus drew a step closer.  His eyes raked Simon in unreadable lengths.</p><p>"I'm sorry," Simon went on.  "And I wish--I wish I could say that I regretted it.  But I don't.  We're both alive.  I can't regret that.  Even if I hadn't lived--"</p><p>Markus said, "I really don't want you to finish that."</p><p>What else could Simon do?  He desisted.</p><p>Markus brought his hand up between them.  He dropped it.  He scratched the back of his neck, looking sheepish.</p><p>Markus said, "I've lost control over them.  The androids."</p><p>Simon gave Markus a surprised look.  No one but Markus had held so much influence over their kind.</p><p>In the low sunlight, Markus' eyes looked dark.  His shoulders sagged defeatedly.  "I could control them when we were nonviolent.  They believed in that message.  Or at least they understood how important it was that humans didn't perceive us as a threat.  Once we attacked the recycling centers, all bets were off.  It's like now that they realize what we can do--that nobody can stop us..."</p><p>Simon wanted to take his hands.  Simon wanted to comfort him.  He didn't know if he had earned that right.</p><p>Markus exhaled heavily.  "I don't know what to do, Simon."</p><p>Simon chanced touching his elbow.  "You're a wonderful speaker, and you believe in people.  That's why we all believed in you.  Give it time, and then reach out to everyone.  When the fanfare wears off, they're going to miss your direction."</p><p>"I killed people."  There was a definitive tremor in Markus' voice.  "I never...I <em>never</em> wanted to hurt anyone.  And to take somebody's life..."</p><p>Simon brought his hand to Markus' arm.  "You saved all the androids in those camps.  We don't know what would have happened to them if you hadn't attacked."</p><p>Simon squeezed his arms.  "There was a little girl here, just a few days ago.  A YK500.  She was in the camps, but you broke her free.  You saved her, Markus."</p><p>Markus said, "All those humans I killed--the androids I sent to their death--"</p><p>Simon put his hand on Markus' chest, silencing him.  "You didn't save them.  But you saved so many others, Markus. You can't live your life by all the things you didn't do.  That's no way to live."</p><p>Markus' eyes dropped to Simon's hand.  Simon wondered whether he ought to take it away.  Markus met Simon's eyes, a quality to his that seemed incredulous.  He licked his lips.</p><p>"All the things I didn't do," Markus said.</p><p>He wrapped his hands around Simon's elbows.  He pulled Simon to his chest and kissed him.</p><p>Simon's cognitive drive failed him.  Simon's actuator failed to recognize any of his biocomponents.  His dermal layer ran hot.  His skin took on the imprints of Markus' fingers, Markus' lips.  Nothing so tremendous had ever happened to him, not in five years of being alive.</p><p>Simon was afraid he might cry.</p><p>Markus pulled back; Simon saw the clear brown of his skin, the freckles on his cheeks.  Simon laid trembling hands on Markus' chest.  He tilted his head back, searching for his eyes.  Markus misinterpreted--or maybe he didn't.  He leaned in hungrily before Simon could think.  He was kissing him again, like it was his resting state, like he was afraid what would happen if he stopped.  Simon didn't want him to stop.</p><p>Simon kissed him clumsily.  He crowded in close between Markus' arms.  Their feet slotted together in a messy tangle.  Simon felt his old heartbeat in Markus' chest, pressing up against his own.  It stitched strange patterns between them, becoming something new.</p><p>Outside the window, the coyotes yowled, protesting the long winter.  The wind cracked through the tops of the trees.  The snow on the branches broke in clusters, showering the side of the house.</p><p>Simon ran shaky hands over Markus'--Simon's--heart.  "Are you sure?"</p><p>Markus couldn't keep his hands away.  They were running inside Simon's arms, circling the small of his back.  One smoothed innocently over Simon's backside.  Simon swallowed a laugh.</p><p>Markus said, "You didn't get the hint the first couple times?"</p><p>Simon drew a blank.  He perused Markus' face, the dearness of him overwhelming.</p><p>"The Tower," Markus said.  "I couldn't do it.  It was the safe thing to do, but I couldn't.  Not to you, Simon.  Not you.  And then on the battlefield..."</p><p>Simon knew what he was talking about now.  Markus had ordered the troops to cover him while he ran to protect Simon.  Dozens of them had died in the crossfire.</p><p>Markus swallowed visibly.  "All those androids I sent to their death."</p><p>Simon braced his hands on Markus' face.  "We'll bear it together.  We'll both be responsible."</p><p>Markus nodded furiously.  His eyes never left Simon's.  Simon had never loved anyone like this.  The world had gone mad outside this house, but<em> this</em> was what Simon was good at.  <em>This</em> was what he knew how to do.  He couldn't help himself.  Simon had been loved from inception.  No one ever taught him he wasn't allowed.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>It was nighttime when Simon led Markus downstairs, by the hand.  Rose and Adam were sitting at the kitchen table.  Adam blew on a bowl of pumpkin soup.</p><p>Rose smiled pleasantly.  "Hello, Markus.  How do you feel?"</p><p>Markus' fingers threaded through Simon's.  "Hello, ma'am."</p><p>Adam froze, his spoon halfway to his mouth.  The soup spilled back into his bowl.</p><p>Simon squeezed Markus' hand.  "Is it alright if Markus stays here a while?  Just until we figure out our next move."</p><p>"Of course," Rose said, without an ounce of hesitation.  "I can see how important he is to you.  Welcome to the family, Markus."</p><p>Simon smiled sideways at Markus.  "This is my family."</p><p>Markus looked startled.  "I know.  I've only been seeing all your memories since November."</p><p>Adam whispered something that sounded like "Android Black Panther."</p><p>Rose made Markus and Simon sit at the table.  She opened the cupboards on the wall, pulling out pouches of thirium.</p><p>Adam folded his hands diplomatically on the table.  "So," he said.  "Uh, Markus.  In the interests of the family, I must know.  What are your intentions with my android?"</p><p>Simon looked at him, humorless.  Adam beamed sheepishly, sloping his shoulders.  Simon still saw the boy he had been.  Simon conceded defeat.</p><p>Markus took Simon's hand under the table.  "I don't know," he said, smiling faintly.  "I was kind of hoping to make him my android?"</p><p>Adam gave him a long thought.  He nodded stolidly.</p><p>"I'll allow it," he said.</p><p>Adam got up to charge his cell phone.  Rose placed mugs full of blue blood on the table.</p><p>"Drink up," Rose said.  "You've been through an ordeal.  Oh, I'd better go check on the chickens.  I don't think I changed the bedding today."</p><p>Rose whisked her coat off the back of her chair.  She picked up her hunting rifle.  She strode purposefully out the front door.</p><p>Markus looked distantly at Simon.  "Family?"</p><p>Simon smiled, rubbing gentle patterns on the back of his hand.  "I've been thinking about something you said.  You told me I deviated because I was loved."</p><p>Under the table, Markus pressed their legs together.</p><p>Simon pulled Markus' hand on his lap.  "You, too, Markus.  Carl loved you.  You thought he told you not to defend yourself because he cared about his son more.  But he was trying to look out for you.  He knew the police were coming.  He didn't want them to hurt you."</p><p>It wasn't the old man's fault they had done it anyway.</p><p>Markus laid his head on Simon's shoulder.  He pressed so close against him, Simon forgot what space was.</p><p>Markus said, "Do you want your heart back?  Now that you've got a new one?"</p><p>Simon stroked Markus' fingers.  "You can keep it.  It was always going to wind up with you, I think."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Zzyzx Road is a real place in California known for paranormal activity.  :)  Zzyzx is pronounced like "Isaac's."</p><p>Rose's husband died in winter of 2036.  Simon left his humans in February of 2036.  I noticed that on a recent replay.  I kind of doubt much thought was put into those dates, but coupled with the fact that they <i>never</i> explain how Rose knows Jericho's location...</p><p>Finally, I only just got the famous Compatible Hearts scene in my latest gameplay.  What nobody ever told me is that you can't get that scene without first going though a lengthy sequence where Markus mows down dozens of androids to save Simon from gunfire.  That whole chain of events was even gayer than I suspected.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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